


loved

by Deinde



Category: Eleceed (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, Families of Choice, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, just three touch-starved boys loving each other, kayden is here too (as casein nitrate)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deinde/pseuds/Deinde
Summary: This is what it feels like to have people care about you. This is what it feels like to be loved.This is what it means to love.or: Jisuk experiences a new way to let Wooin and Jiwoo in.
Relationships: Seo Jiwoo/Wooin/Yoo Jisuk
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	loved

**Author's Note:**

> So I binge read all of Eleceed in one day, fell in love with these three boys, went on ao3 and found.... thirteen works. Sometimes you gotta make your own food and create the content you want to see in the world lol.
> 
> This is nebulously set anywhere in canon post-Klein brother arc and can work concurrently with any of the arcs! Many, many thanks to [Kisatsel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisatsel/pseuds/Kisatsel) for beta-ing for a fandom she knows nothing about 💕

Jiwoo asks when they’re on their way home from school.

In all other respects, it’s a completely ordinary day. The sun is just starting to go down and gilds the streets in gold as they head to Jiwoo’s house. Occasionally, Jiwoo recognizes a stray cat and races to feed it, Wooin on his heels while Jisuk trails after them, complaining loudly. 

“You damn cat lovers,” Jisuk grumbles, sticking his hands in his pockets. Jiwoo kneels, pulling a bag of snacks out of his backpack. “What’s so good about those furry beasts?”

“They’re good,” Wooin says softly, stoic as always, while Jiwoo turns huge wet eyes onto Jisuk and says, “Jisuk, I thought you liked cats?”

Fuck.

“I guess they’re cute,” Jisuk is forced to agree. What else is he supposed to do when Jiwoo looks at him like that? And honestly, he doesn’t dislike cats as much as he pretends. Yeah, it’s pretty endearing for them to twine around your feet when you get home, and okay, it’s actually kind of charming when they ignore you, but—fine! Jisuk might like them too, but it’s only because of prolonged exposure to these two idiots. 

Wait. Would he have liked cats without them? Or is this just a side effect of spending all his time with Jiwoo and Wooin? What about that fat cat that Jiwoo brings with him everywhere, the one that scares the shit out of him? The one who can talk and used electricity to save Jisuk? Does Jisuk like him too? Is Jisuk a cat lover now?!

Jisuk is in the middle of working this out, struggling to get his thoughts in order, when Jiwoo asks out of nowhere, “Jisuk, can we fuck you tonight?”

Huh?

“Fuck me?” Jisuk parrots back before Jiwoo’s question really registers. As soon as it does, Jisuk recoils back, a violent blush overtaking his face. “Idiot, how could you just say that out loud?” he hisses, glancing around.

Jiwoo, that nerd, has the gall to look _wounded_ when he says sadly, “Is that a no?” At his side, Wooin looks like he’s read to commit murder if Jisuk turns Jiwoo down.

“I didn’t say _that_ either!”

“Oh! Then does that mean you _do_ want us to fuck you?”

Jisuk splutters and covers his face with his hands while Jiwoo blinks obliviously. Wooin still hasn’t said a word. He just nods in agreement and pulls out another bag of cat food as a few more strays gather around, meowing as they sense an opportunity for free food. 

Meanwhile, Jisuk is still trying to pull himself back together. There’s something fundamentally wrong with a word as vulgar as _fuck_ coming from Jiwoo’s innocent face. It’s not as if he thinks Jiwoo is actually all that innocent—Jiwoo is a better person than anyone he knows, but Jisuk has also seen Jiwoo in a fight, after all—but there’s an open honesty to his face that still scrapes Jisuk raw every time it’s turned on him, a vulnerability that he can’t believe Jiwoo trusts him with.

“Don’t we do that anyway?” Jisuk asks, organizing his thoughts into a vaguely acceptable order. “What’s so special that you need to ask me about it tonight?”

“He doesn’t mean just having sex,” Wooin interjects from the side. There’s a tabby at his feet, pushing her nose into his hand, and Wooin’s normally stern features soften as he pets her. “He means both of us, fucking you.”

Jisuk stiffens when their meaning finally registers. 

“Oh,” he says weakly.

So… there’s this Thing that the three of them have. 

It’s not that big of a deal. Most of the time, the three of them go to school, feed the cats, and train. It’s been a long time (okay, never) since Jisuk has had peers who are anywhere close to his level, so sparring Jiwoo and Wooin always sends a vicious curl of pleasure down his spine. Wooin’s style is unorthodox, his telekinesis pushing Jisuk to the edge of his own strength in the best way, and Jiwoo is such a fast (ha!) learner that it seems like he progresses miles every time they fight. They use Shinhwa’s training grounds since Jiyoung has finally given Jisuk the open access he’s craved since he was a child. When they’re too exhausted to stand, they drag themselves back to Jiwoo’s house and rest. That’s it. 

Most of the time.

Other times, though—when Jiwoo gives them that bashful smile that means he’s remembering too many strange cities with no one at his side or when Wooin has that broken expression that always comes with remembering his time in the labs—they touch one another. 

It started as a practical thing. When they started sleeping over more often, it didn’t make sense for Jiwoo to be on the floor while Wooin and Jisuk took the sofas, so when Jiwoo tentatively suggested that they all migrate to his sizable bedroom, they had agreed. Then, once they were all in the bedroom, it didn’t make sense for them _not_ to share the king-sized bed. Pressed up against one another like that, arm to bare arm, they could take care of each other better.

For instance, with only their thin sleeping shirts between them, it was easy to tell when Wooin fell into another nightmare. 

The first time it had happened, they’d stared at one another in silence. Jisuk hadn’t known how to respond, too used to his own wild outbursts to know how to reach out to Wooin who was shaking and clutching at himself like if he let go he’d fall apart. 

Then Jiwoo had leaned over, eyes clear and bright, and kissed Wooin on the lips. And Wooin had kissed him back. Jisuk, watching, had felt uncertain of his own place until Jiwoo reached across Wooin to pull him into the embrace as well.

After that, well… 

It became their Thing. The three of them, hands roaming underneath uniforms, skating down bodies honed by training, mouths pressing against one another in sloppy makeout sessions. Out of the three of them, Jiwoo is still a little soft, showing his inexperience, and Jisuk loves that, loves the way Jiwoo’s stomach has some give and sinks under his fingers. Wooin does too if the way he always peppers kisses against the thin skin there is any indication.

Then, because they weren’t some of the top-ranked Awakened of their age group in all of South Korea for nothing, they’d escalated. Wait, let Jisuk clarify— _he’s_ the top-ranked Awakened in his age group, no matter how much Wooin and Soobin nip at his heels. That means he’s the best at _everything._ Including sex.

So makeouts had turned into shirtless makeouts, had turned into handjobs, blowjobs, and… you get the point. Long story short, they fuck one another. 

“So,” Jisuk had said after one particularly invigorating session. Sweat was still drying on his hairline, and Wooin next to him was a furnace, emanating heat and sleepy satisfaction. Jiwoo was sprawled on top of both of them, a satisfied half-smile on his face. “Are we dating?” 

“Huh?” Jiwoo raised his head and turned a quizzical face to Jisuk. “Are we not?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you!” Jisuk shouted. “Isn’t this what people who are dating do? Like, hold hands and go on dates and have sex and shit?” The three of them didn’t exactly hold hands, but beating each other into the ground counted, right?

Jiwoo shrugged. The motion of his bare shoulder rising and falling drew Jisuk’s eye, and he swallowed at the sight of it. “I don’t know,” Jiwoo said, dipping his head bashfully. “I’ve never dated anyone before.”

“... Me neither,” Wooin said, which wasn’t much of an admission for someone who’d spent the majority of their life on the run with a criminal as their surrogate father. 

“Jisuk, I suppose you have the most experience, then!” Jiwoo chirped. He sat up and leaned in, eyes sparkling hopefully. “Is this what people do when they date?”

“Wha—what makes you think I know?” Jisuk blustered. At that, Jiwoo and Wooin’s faces turned into those ridiculously sappy expressions they got when they realized that, for all of his posturing, Jisuk was as pathetic as the both of them. “Fuck, I mean—of course I know! Yeah.”

“If you say so,” Wooin said slowly, propping himself up. He blinked, eyes luminous in the dark without his glasses. “Then I guess we’re dating.”

Jiwoo immediately teared up, lip quivering, and he dashed the wetness away with the sheets.

“I’ve never dated anyone before,” he blubbered. “But I’m so happy it’s you two!”

“Wait, that’s it?” Jisuk asked, sitting up. The sheet partially covering him fell, and he didn’t bother yanking it back up. Jiwoo and Wooin had already seen everything there was to see at this point anyway. “We’re just… dating now? All three of us?”

“Isn’t that what you said?”

“I mean, kind of, but…”

He trailed off, taking in the scene before him. All three of them, naked in Jiwoo’s bed after Jisuk had fucked Jiwoo and Wooin had watched while petting Jisuk’s hair. Both of them had that soft look in the eyes, the one that embarrassed Jisuk and pleased him in equal measure. 

“Ugh,” he said, heartfelt. “Fine, yeah, I guess we’re dating.”

And that had been that.

They didn’t bother announcing it or making it official anywhere. Anyone who was important already knew, anyway, if Jisuk’s sister and Inhyuk’s reactions were anything to go by. Nothing about their routine has changed outwardly, either. They just spent a lot more time having sex, which—three superpowered and touch-starved teens, could you really blame them? Jisuk doesn’t bother wasting time thinking about who’s dick goes where. These things tend to sort themselves out in the bed anyways, so who cares? 

So Jisuk is a little surprised that Jiwoo would ask about fucking him, but now, as his meaning becomes clear, a specific type of heat diffuses through his whole body, as if his bones are kindling and his skin is a bonfire. 

They want to _fuck_ him. 

Jisuk… has never been fucked before. 

“Oh,” he says again, dumbly, while Jiwoo and Wooin look at him with those stupid hopeful eyes. “I—”

Fuck, why is he hesitating? He does this to Jiwoo all the time, Wooin too! 

“If you don’t want us to, that’s okay—” Jiwoo begins before Jisuk cuts him off.

“It’s fine,” he says bluntly. His hands are clammy in his pockets. “Do whatever you want.”

“Are you sure? You don’t sound too excited…” Jiwoo trails off.

“Hey.”

Wooin stands, not bothering to brush the cat fur off his pants, and steps closer to Jisuk. Instinctively, Jisuk takes a step back. He’s used to being the tallest kid around, but Wooin is the same height, maybe even a little taller, and Jisuk never knows what to do with the tingle that runs through him at that realization.

“Jisuk,” Wooin says. “You know that we’re not going to force you to do anything you don’t want, right?”

“Fuck you, as if you could make me—”

“ _Yoo Jisuk._ ”

The use of his family name freezes whatever Jisuk is about to say, the words dying before they even leave his mouth. Wooin stands, hands fisted at his sides like he’s about to fight, and his mouth is a thin-lipped frown.

“We’re not going to make you do anything,” he says again, louder this time, like Jisuk can’t hear from just a few steps away. “You don’t have to do everything for us.”

“Hey!” Jisuk barks. He slouches forward, deliberately casual, and sticks his hands in his pockets. Once he’s sure that both Wooin and Jiwoo are looking at him, he says, “I want to, okay? Fuck, I’m not made out of glass. Besides, I never do anything I don’t want to.”

“But...” Jiwoo’s getting that ridiculously mushy expression again. “You always complain about us dragging you places.”

“That’s because you two are both reckless idiots who never think twice before jumping into fights you can’t win!” Jisuk growls back, ignoring the fact that he has, on more than one occasion, initiated those fights. Eh, who was counting? “My point is,” he continues. “You can’t make me do anything. So if you two say you want to fuck me, and I say I want to get fucked, then that’s that! It all works out! Got it?”

“Jisuk...” Jiwoo’s lower lip wobbles, and then he ruins the moment by saying, “You really shouldn’t swear so much.”

“ _What!_ ” Jisuk splutters, feeling distinctly wronged. “Y-you’re the one who said ‘fuck’ to begin with!”

“I only said it once!”

They bicker all the way back to Jiwoo’s house. Wooin takes Jiwoo’s side, as always, and Jisuk is left red-faced as the two banter back and forth about Jisuk’s lack of manners despite being raised in “such a nice household.” Fuck them. If they saw how Jiyoung was during their training sessions, they wouldn’t think she was all that elegant. Jisuk’s sister is the number one Awakened in South Korea for a reason, and it sure isn’t because she’s _nice._

“I’m home!” Jiwoo calls, sliding his shoes off and putting his slippers on. Wooin follows behind, bowing to the empty air, and Jisuk comes in afterwards. He leans against the door as Jiwoo’s assortment of kittens come sprinting over, rubbing up against Jiwoo and Wooin’s legs while meowing plaintively. You’d think they were dogs with how affectionate they are, but maybe it just has to do with Jiwoo’s endlessly kind nature. Maybe the cats can sense it too.

Except one cat.

From his lofty perch on the corner of the sofa, Casein Nitrate, that stupidly overpowered fat cat, glares at him, resting his chin on his paw. What the fuck. Cats don’t even sit like that. How can Jiwoo and Wooin not tell that something’s up with him? Still, better to be safe than sorry.

Jisuk sidles over, goes down onto his knees and offers up the luxury cat treat that he’s saved just for Casein Nitrate. Casting him an utterly disdainful glance, the cat takes the treat, opens it with his front paws (opens it!!!! How does _no one else_ realize how unnatural this cat is?!), and gnaws on it while staring at Jisuk without blinking. Jisuk feels cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. Seriously, what’s up with him?

“Jisuk, do you want food?” Jiwoo calls from the kitchen. “Wooin is feeding the cats, so I thought I’d get some snacks.”

“Check the cabinets. My sister said that Inhyuk dropped some snacks off earlier,” Jisuk replies. He looks back over his shoulder, and luckily, Casein Nitrate is watching the other kittens now. God, that cat freaks him out. “We can just eat those.”

“Oh! Tell your sister thanks for me again.”

Jisuk is _not_ going to tell his sister thanks because Jiyoung had handed Inhyuk the snacks and then said, _We have to treat those children well. Jisuk has never had friends before_ , like Jisuk wasn’t standing right in front of them. “Nice” his ass. His sister is just as intent on humiliating him as everyone else. 

Wooin comes back from making the rounds with the cat bowls and takes a seat on the floor. He pulls out his books and lays them out in neat piles. Jisuk watches him curiously. Come to think of it, he doesn’t know how good Wooin’s grades are. Wooin skips the school the most out of all three of them. Jiwoo is a bit airheaded, but at least he tries to be a good student. Jisuk used to be a bully and cut class whenever he felt like it, but he’s still one of the scions of Shinhwa Corporation and has to keep up a good show. Wooin, on the other hand, has been hospitalized with severe injuries the most, nevermind their fast healing. Before that, he attended ten different middle schools because Dr. Delain was on the run all the time. 

With that in mind, Jisuk reaches out with his foot and kicks away one of Wooin’s notebooks. You know, like a good friend would.

“What was that for?” Wooin asks, narrowing his eyes at Jisuk. There’s the slightest bit of energy emanating off of him, that familiar red and black surge sending a thrill lancing down Jisuk’s spine.

Jisuk smirks and crosses his arms. 

“Nothing, just felt like annoying you,” he replies. Then, deliberately casual, “If you ever need help with your homework, you can just ask me. I’m probably waaaay smarter than you.”

Wooin freezes from where he’s in the middle of reorganizing his books, letting his power dissipate, and Jisuk preens. Ha! Wooin must be so moved that he doesn’t know how to respond. 

“Jisuk...” Wooin begins. “Are you implying… that _you…_ are… _smart?_ ”

What… the hell?! That’s not how this was supposed to go.

“The _fuck_ is that supposed to mean, huh?” Jisuk demands. He jabs a thumb at himself. “This person right here, Yoo Jisuk, is ranked number three in the grade, you know? I’m super smart, the smartest!”

“You’re not the smartest if you’re number three,” Wooin points out. 

“ _Fuck you_ , do you want help or not?” Jisuk recovers just as Jiwoo comes over, arms laden with snacks. He eyes them both curiously but doesn’t chime in, choosing to collapse on the sofa and cuddle with Casein Nitrate instead. The cat puts up with him with ill grace. “This is a one time offer. If you don’t accept, then see if I care if you fail or not.”

Wooin looks down, and Jisuk follows his gaze. His kick had loosened some sheets of paper, and he can see red marks scattered all over the pages. Seems like Jisuk’s hunch was right and that Wooin isn’t that great at school. The sight doesn’t fill him with as much satisfaction as he thought it would.

“Yeah,” Wooin says, voice low. “I’d like that. Thanks, Jisuk.”

Jisuk blushes. Damn these two and their off-putting sincerity.

“W-whatever,” he says, coming to sit by Wooin. Jisuk props his chin up on his hand and sticks his hand out. “Come one, show me what you’ve got. We can work on it together.”

If he sits a bit closer than strictly necessary, until his knee brushes up against Wooin’s own, well, no one needs to know that.

The three of them do their work together peacefully, occasionally breaking their productivity with comments about recent Awakened activity. Jisuk fills them in on what he’s overheard from Shinhwa’s board meetings that he’s long eschewed attending in person, and Jiwoo tells them about his training progress. Jisuk still doesn’t know how Jiwoo trains so efficiently by himself, but everyone is entitled to their secrets. Jiwoo can have this one. Besides, he’ll tell them if he needs to.

Eventually, the sun goes down behind the house, withdrawing its long rays until all that’s left is glimmers of artificial light from the streetlights. The glass windows in Jiwoo’s house fade from clear lavender hues to panels of darkness, and Jiwoo gets to his feet to draw the curtains. They don’t bother ordering dinner, still stuffed from the snacks and ramen. The cats have scattered around the living room, in various states of napping, and Jisuk resists the urge to join them as he stretches.

“There,” he says, throwing his pencil down with relish. “You understand the Silla Dynasty now, right?”

Wooin bobs his head in agreement and finishes his last sentence. He has nice handwriting, neat and efficient. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Thanks, Jisuk.”

More prepared for it this time, Jisuk just rolls his eyes. 

“Whatever. When you get a full score and all your teachers are shocked, you tell them that it’s thanks to me, you hear?”

“Sure.”

Damn. It’s no fun when Wooin doesn’t rise to the bait.

“You two are done already?” Jiwoo exclaims from the coffee table where his work is spread out. “Aw, man, I still have a lot to go.”

“Aren’t you two in the same class?” Jisuk asks. “Wooin didn’t have that much.”

“Ahaha, well...” Jiwoo scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “I still have a lot of work to make up from all the times I fell asleep.”

Right, exhausted from all his extra training. That makes sense. 

Jisuk has nothing to say in response to that, and neither, it seems, does anyone else. The seconds stretch out until every tick from the clock rings in the silence. Across the table, Jiwoo sets his books down. His throat bobs. Next to him, Wooin nearly vibrates with tension.

Jisuk isn’t an idiot. He knows how to read the signs. For all that they’ve just been doing homework for the past few hours, he hasn’t forgotten the conversation they had on the walk back here, nor is he ignorant to the way that Wooin’s gaze on him had lingered longer and longer as they worked together. Jiwoo is sitting pretty a few feet away, but he squirms where he sits, eyes darting to Jisuk and Wooin and then back to his lap like he’s embarrassed. 

If Jisuk were someone else—Inhyuk, perhaps, or that sleazy Jaehyuk—he’d use this moment to say something smooth, maybe preen or toss his head back in a way that exposes the strong muscles of his neck. But he can’t help but be anyone other than Yoo Jisuk: prodigal son of Shinhwa, strongest Awakened user of his age group in South Korea, and boyfriend to two reckless and overpowered idiots, so instead, Jisuk just says, “Well? Are you two gonna fuck me or what?”

Wooin stiffens, Jiwoo sits up, and far in the corner of the living room, Casein Nitrate starts retching like he’s throwing up.

“You still want to?” Jiwoo asks, scrambling closer. His eyes are bright, and an excited grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You didn’t say anything for so long, I thought you’d forgotten.”

“How could I forget?” Jisuk grumbles. “It’s only been a few hours. Besides, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s not!” Jiwoo agrees. “Besides, Wooin is so good at it. I love it when Wooin fucks me.”

“I’ll make it good for you,” Wooin promises. 

“Alright—hey! Seo Jiwoo! Does it not feel good when _I_ fuck you?”

Jiwoo waves a hand. “No, no, it does,” he reassures Jisuk. “I’m just really excited. And thankful.”

Jisuk eyes him, letting his hackles come down. 

“Thankful? What’re you thankful about?” he asks suspiciously.

Jiwoo’s entire face softens. He leans in and, without giving Jisuk time to react, places a gentle kiss on Jisuk’s lips.

“Thankful that you let us have this,” he says softly as he draws back. His breath is warm against Jisuk’s face. “You’re amazing, Yoo Jisuk.”

“Wha—”

Without pause, Wooin scoots closer and kisses Jisuk as soon as Jiwoo moves back. His touch is firmer, tongue peeking out to swipe across Jisuk’s lip teasingly before he pulls away.

“You want this,” Wooin says. It’s a statement, not a question, as his eyes rove searchingly over Jisuk’s face.

Jisuk swallows. His lips tingle from the kisses, and suddenly, viscerally, Jisuk wants more. Fuck, that’s how it always is with these two, isn’t it? They make him want more.

“Yeah,” he rasps. Pushing himself to his knees, Jisuk wobbles for a second before catching himself. He reaches out and grabs his boyfriends, one wrist in each hand, and tugs them to their feet. “Let’s go.”

They don’t bother turning on the rest of the lights. It’s hard to coordinate three horny bodies stumbling through the hallways in the dark, but they manage. By the time they stumble into Jiwoo’s bedroom, Jisuk has a hand on Jiwoo’s ass, and Jiwoo is red-faced and laughing as he opens button after button on Wooin’s uniform. 

The bed is huge and soft as they fall onto it, and they briefly wrestle for their positions. Jiwoo, smaller than the two of them, ends up on the floor with a muffled _oof._ True to form, Wooin stops from where he’s tussling with Jisuk on the bed to go and help Jiwoo up. He glares at Jisuk as he goes.

“You pushed Jiwoo off,” Wooin states, like it’s a fact and he wasn’t also making a mess of the bed.

“Fuck off,” Jisuk retorts, only slightly out of breath. “There are three of us in this relationship, not everything is my fault, okay?

“Don’t fight!” Jiwoo says, even as he muffles his laughter into the palm of his hand. “There’s enough room for all of us.”

“Nah,” Jisuk says, sticking his tongue out at Wooin. “We can always kick this bastard out.”

In retaliation, Wooin pounces back onto the bed, and Jisuk’s hands fly up to defend himself automatically. He pushes half heartedly at Wooin’s shoulder as Wooin pins him to the mattress but gives up shortly, letting his hand fall limply to the bed. What the hell, he’s going to end up on the bottom anyway, right?

“Take this off,” he says and then in, in a show that would undoubtedly get him scolded by his sister, activates his powers. A breeze swirls to life in the room and creeps under Wooin’s collar, lifting his jacket off and tilting his glasses until they’re askew. Jisuk smirks at the shocked look on Wooin’s face and uses that time to undo the rest of his buttons. “What, can you not manage that level of control yet?” he can’t resist teasing. “Looks like I’m still stronger.”

Wooin’s eyes narrow, and a red glow crackles to life around him. That’s how Jisuk finds himself shirtless in seconds, shirt ripped away, and he gasps, breathless with the adrenaline that pumps through him. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. Then, catching sight of Jiwoo smiling at them from the edge of the bed, he beckons. “Get over here, Jiwoo. Wanna touch you.”

Jiwoo comes willingly, shucking off his shirt as he goes. He comes besides Jisuk and Wooin, laying one hand over Jisuk’s chest, brushing his fingers against his nipple, then tweaking it gently. Jisuk shivers. 

“Jisuk, you’re so handsome,” Jiwoo says. His hand toys with Jisuk’s nipple a second longer before wandering lower, popping open Jisuk’s pants button. Jisuk is half hard already, and even the slight pressure of Jiwoo’s hand makes him buck up. “We’re lucky to have you, you know?”

“Of course,” Jisuk says. It takes some fumbling, but he manages to get his hand down Wooin’s pants at the same time that he lifts his hips up so Jiwoo can pull his pants off. “If you never met me, you’d still be two stupid independents without knowing anything.”

“We’re still independents,” Wooin points out. He nips at the junction between Jisuk’s head and shoulder. He’s taken his glasses off, and his hands are so big and broad where they frame Jisuk’s sides. “And I already knew about the Awakened world.”

“That’s totally different from now,” Jisuk says. “Admit it, without Shinhwa’s resources, you wouldn’t—mmph!”

Wooin cuts him off with a hard kiss, and Jisuk’s hands automatically fly up to grasp at Wooin’s shoulders. Here too, like so many other places, Wooin has scars, hard lines that Jisuk can trace beneath his hands. He doesn’t know where these are from—scrapes from being thrown against the ground during training, surgical scars from his time in the labs, hell, maybe Jisuk put some there himself. None of that matters like this, their legs tangled together as they kiss, skin against skin, nothing between them. Here in the dark, their bodies are honest. 

The mattress dips as Jiwoo comes closer. Jisuk paws blindly at him, trying to pull him in without elbowing Wooin in the face. That’s one challenge they’d quickly discovered after the first time they slept together—it’s hard to keep track of everyone’s parts. 

After some fumbling, Jisuk manages to get his hands on Jiwoo. Jiwoo’s skin is softer than his or Wooin’s, still untested and inexperienced, but Jisuk is glad for it. Jiwoo has fewer scars. He’s not quite there yet, but maybe Jiwoo will one day be fast enough to avoid being hit altogether. For now, though, Jiwoo has taken off his pants, and his cock is stirring to life under Jisuk’s searching touch. That has to be good enough.

Jisuk breaks away from Wooin’s lips to gasp out a, “Fuck,” before Wooin chases after him, claiming his mouth once more. Wooin’s tongue is hot and wet, spit trickling down their chins as Wooin presses forwards. That’s just like him, Jisuk thinks half-hysterically. Always the first to attack.

Jiwoo’s voice comes from behind him. 

“Roll over,” Jiwoo urges, pressing at the small of Jisuk’s back. Jisuk obeys but, unwilling to stop kissing Wooin, brings Wooin with him as he rolls. He ends up falling on top of Wooin with an _oof_ squeezed out of him, but this, this is also good. Now, Jisuk is straddling Wooin’s hips with Jiwoo behind him, running hand up and down his ass. The pressure is nice. Wooin is tugging at his hair now, desperate, and yeah, Jisuk likes that too. He likes everything about this, as embarrassing as it is to admit. 

Making out is nice and all, but after a while of nothing else happening, Jisuk pulls himself away and looks over his shoulder.

“Are you gonna touch me or what?” he demands, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “I thought you said you wanted to fuck me.”

“I will, I will!” Jiwoo says. He comes closer until his knees bracket Jisuk’s hips and his cock bumps up against Jisuk’s thigh. He’s hard. “Sorry, I just wanted to look for a bit longer. You two are so beautiful together.”

His voice is bare and fond. Jisuk can’t stand this idiot and his honesty. 

“Yeah, well, if looking is all you’re gonna do, then—”

Just then, Wooin gets tired of their talking, apparently, and wraps his hand around Jisuk’s cock. Jisuk jumps a bit, and a hard shiver goes down his spine. Wooin’s hand is calloused and rough, and there’s no lube to smooth the way. It’s too dry, hurts a little bit, but Jisuk feels like a starving man as he presses into Wooin’s touch anyway. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs, biting his lower lip. It’s good for a few fleeting seconds, and then it’s too much. “Wooin, lube—”

Wooin removes his hand, and a whine slips past Jisuk’s lips without his permission. He’s the one who reminded them, but he misses Wooin’s touch already. 

Jiwoo must pass Wooin the lube somewhere in the background, because the next thing Jisuk registers is two touches simultaneously. One: Wooin’s hand, back on his dick, pumping up and down until Jisuk is pitching forward, barely catching himself on Wooin’s broad chest. Two: Jiwoo’s thin fingers rubbing at his entrance, cool and slippery as one of his fingers, his thumb maybe, catches on Jisuk’s rim. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Jisuk mumbles into Wooin’s chest. He shifts, feeling his dick strain. Wooin is hard too, and Jisuk should probably get him off, touch him, do _something_ toreciprocate, but his brain is just white noise from Wooin’s steady touch and Jiwoo’s more tentative one. “Jiwoo, just—you can put your fingers in.”

“You sure?”

And Jisuk hates asking, hates begging more than anything in the world, but for this one time, he doesn’t mind at all when he says, “ _Please._ ”

Jiwoo obliges.

The first finger is unfamiliar, and Jisuk feels himself go a little soft at the intrusion before Wooin’s hand tugs him back to full hardness. Wooin’s other hand comes up to rub at the nape of Jisuk’s neck, and he can’t stop himself from leaning into that gentle touch. 

“Relax,” Wooin says into his ear. Jisuk is sweating now, moans dropping from his mouth unconsciously as Wooin moves his hand lower and toys with him. “We’ll take care of you.”

What Jisuk hates the _most_ of this entire affair is how he trusts Wooin so implicitly that his body obeys without conscious thought. He untenses enough for Jiwoo to slide a second finger in and begin scissoring him open, and he must hit something good because the sudden burst of pleasure has Jisuk bucking hard enough that Wooin has to use both hands to hold him down.

“Holy _shit,_ ” Jisuk gasps. His cock jumps, and a small thread of precome spurts onto the trail of hair that leads from Wooin’s navel to his crotch. Does it feel this good when Jisuk does this to Jiwoo? When he does this to Wooin? God, if it already feels like this now, what’s it gonna feel like when one of them puts it in? “Holy _shit._ ”

“Does it feel good?” Jiwoo sounds breathless behind him, and Jisuk can’t see his face, but he’d bet his entire trust fund that he’s got that sappy expression on again. “Jisuk, you look so good like this, so perfect. You’re so tight, you’re clenching down so well. It’s so smooth inside of you.”

“Seo Jiwoo, you have a filthy fucking mouth,” Jisuk manages to get out. There’s pressure building inside him now, and he bats Wooin’s hand away. “Fuck, get inside me now or I’m gonna come.”

“Are you sure?” Jiwoo asks, sounding worried. “There’s no rush, you can take your time.”

“Seo Jiwoo, you better fuck me me _right now,_ or I swear—”

“Alright, alright!”

The stretch of Jiwoo’s cock is inexorable. Jisuk has never felt anything like it. Jiwoo isn’t especially big, but his cock still catches on Jisuk’s rim a few times before he finally presses in. Jisuk and Jiwoo groan simultaneously, and Jisuk drops his head forward onto Wooin’s shoulder as Wooin steadily strokes his hair, murmuring reassurances that Jisuk is sure he wouldn’t be caught dead saying in the daytime. 

“Oh, wow,” Jiwoo says, high and strained. “Jisuk, you feel so good. I can’t—I have to—” 

He presses further in like he can’t help himself, and Jisuk moans. Another inch, then another, and another. Slowly, slowly, until somehow, Jiwoo’s hips are flush against his own.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Jisuk says with feeling. “Fuck.”

“Feel okay?” Wooin asks as he runs a broad palm down Jisuk’s arched back.

“Yeah,” Jisuk says, sucking in a jagged breath. “I’m fine. Feels good.” 

And it does. Jisuk has never thought too much about who’s dick goes where. It’s always been easy to go with the flow when the three of them fell into bed together. It was a privilege, he knew, to have two people in his bed that he could trust without reservation. He’s too familiar with the opposite.

Growing up, he knew all too well what it meant to be used. Stockholder meetings, assessments of his powers, impressed yet poisonous remarks that followed him whenever he went. The insidious murmurs: _Wouldn’t you like to lead Shinhwa? We can help you. You can take your sister’s place. Your parents aren’t here anymore. Just listen to us._

Jisuk was sick of it all.

That makes this moment all the more momentous. Jiwoo, inside of him. Wooin, holding him. The wind, not in his control for once, had blown them into his life like a summer storm, like lightning cracking the sky apart and sheets of rain washing the world clean. Suddenly, Jisuk knows what it means to give. 

Jiwoo shifts, and Jisuk groans, long and low.

“Move,” he says, quiet, but not quite begging. Not yet. “Jiwoo, you can move.”

“Okay,” Jiwoo says, tone as gentle as always but with an undercurrent of something like awe running through it. Shit, Jisuk can’t examine that too closely. “Okay, okay.” 

With that, Jiwoo finally starts moving. Their thighs slap together as Jiwoo pushes in and out. His training shows here, all that leg-based speed strengthening them now. He hits something inside of Jisuk, and Jisuk lurches, scrabbling at Wooin’s chest for purchase. In response, Wooin grinds up against his belly and leaves slick trails of precome behind, biting hard into Jisuk’s shoulder and making him shudder at the little edge of pain alongside the pleasure.

“Ah, _fuck._ ” Jisuk curses and gasps for air that doesn’t quite reach his lungs. “Th-that’s good. Don’t stop. Fuck, Jiwoo, don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Jiwoo pants behind him. His fingers dig into Jisuk’s hip, and he’s sure that there will be bruises there after. Good. He wants that, wants the reminder of what they’ve done and how he’s let someone take him this way. He wants to show up to training and have a limp that the instructors can’t explain. Proof that someone wants him.

Above him, Jiwoo is still talking. “Jisuk, you have no idea how this feels. You’re so good, we’re so lucky to have you,” he says, mouth running nonstop. 

Abruptly, Jisuk’s vision blurs, and he’s blinking tears out of his eyes. 

“Fuck that,” he manages to get out, choking on nothing as Wooin wraps a hand around him again. He’s _so_ close that he aches with it. “I-I’m the lucky one. Don’t make me say it again, fuckers.”

Then, Wooin’s mouth biting lightly at his earlobe, and he whispers, “Come on, Jisuk. We’ve got you.”

Jisuk comes with a sob. 

His orgasm is a current of electricity, racing over him as he comes. It seems to both last forever and take no time at all, and when it ends, he slumps over, barely managing to catch himself on Wooin’s shoulder. The touch of Wooin’s skin against his own makes him flinch, oversensitive everywhere even as Jiwoo chases his own release inside him.

“Ah, ah,” Jiwoo gasps behind him. He feels good in Jisuk, as sensitive as he is, and Jisuk shudders hard when Jiwoo hits his prostate again. His cock stirs, a weak attempt to rise, but Jisuk clenches around Jiwoo anyway and relishes how Jiwoo moans louder in response. 

Jisuk wishes that they were doing this face to face. He wishes he could see what Jiwoo looks like when he comes because of him. 

“Almost there,” Jiwoo breathes, words short and bitten off. “I just need—”

In a flash, Wooin pushes Jisuk off of him and lifts himself off the bed, leaving Jisuk to fall face first into the soft mattress. He doesn’t mind that much because whatever Wooin does makes Jiwoo lurch forward until his front is plastered against Jisuk’s back, and then Jiwoo is coming as his mouth paints sweet gasps across Jisuk’s skin. 

“ _Jisuk,_ ” Jiwoo says as he comes, and Jisuk has never liked the sound of his own name more. 

He grips the sheets tightly beneath his fingers and breathes, waiting as Jiwoo rides his orgasm out. He can’t see either of them, but that doesn’t matter right now. Not when Jiwoo is softening inside of him and Wooin has left teeth marks in his shoulder. 

Jiwoo is still breathing hard, and his hair tickles Jisuk’s back a little as he pulls back. When he slips out of Jisuk, it’s with a quiet, “Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for,” Jisuks grumbles into the pillow. He’d turn around, but he can barely feel his own legs. “Felt good as hell.”

The sheets wrinkle as Jiwoo settles next to him. 

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes huge and innocent as if he didn’t just fuck a mindblowing orgasm out of Jisuk. “You make me feel like that all the time, so I’m glad I could make you feel good too.”

“God, you’re so fucking soft,” Jisuk complains, but he doesn’t mind that much. Not really. 

He shifts, letting out a quiet sigh as he tries to get his bearings again. Jisuk feels kinda floaty, but he hasn’t lost his senses enough to forget about what the original plan was. 

_He means both of us,_ Wooin had said, straightfaced. _Fucking you._

He’s tired and oversensitive as hell, but let it never be said that Yoo Jisuk doesn’t have godlike stamina. Wooin is still standing behind him, so Jisuk shifts his legs and opens them for Wooin as he hovers quietly at his side.

“Come on, Wooin,” Jisuk says. “Your turn.”

To his credit, Wooin doesn’t ask if he’s sure. Jisuk is glad for it because that means that he has one person who can tell when he’s being serious without him having to clarify. Jisuk only offers when he means it, and it’s so wonderful to have someone know that. 

“You feel amazing,” Wooin says as he pushes in. He’s big, bigger than Jiwoo, and Jisuk has to prop himself up on his elbows for a better angle. Besides him, Jisoo turns to look at them, mouth hanging open slightly as he watches. “You were really good when you took it for Jiwoo, I’ll make it good for you too.”

God, even this fucker knows how to smooth talk, huh?

“Whatever,” Jisuk manages to get out, but the last syllable trails off in moan as Wooin slides in with one smooth stroke. _Fuck_ , he feels so good, so heavy and so present inside of him, pushing into Jisuk’s body so deeply that he swears he can feel Wooin in his throat. Wooin’s dick is almost grounding, and isn’t that the strangest thought he’s had all day, Jisuk thinks a little hysterically to himself. 

Once Wooin starts moving, however, he doesn’t think much at all.

Wooin fucks differently from Jiwoo. He doesn’t babble praises like him or go slowly while constantly checking in. Instead, he knows what he wants and he takes it. When Jisuk tries to rise up, thrust his hips back to meet him, Wooin’s hands press Jisuk’s shoulders back into the bed so that he’s tilted, face down and ass up, and fuck, Jisuk kind of likes this too. Like this, Wooin can brace himself against the bed and fuck him until the bedsprings creak underneath them.

Wooin fucks like he fights. The first time they ever fought each other, Wooin had been all lit up with fury because he thought he was protecting Jiwoo. That had been one of the best fights of Jisuk’s life, and he can still taste the delicious moment of revelation when he had realized, _This guy is good. I can go all out against him._ The intoxication of unleashing the storm inside of him, no holds barred—the memory of it is still heady like the soju he’d sneaked from the fridge once when Jiyoung was late coming home.

Of course, it had only been minutes later that they’d realized that they were fighting for no reason at all as Jiwoo barged in to clear the misunderstanding up, but the point still stands. Wooin will never go easy on him, and Jisuk will never want him to. It’s perfect that way.

A hard snap of Wooin’s hips jolts Jisuk back to the present, and he gasps, rolling his hips back to meet Wooin’s thrusts. He’s hard again, and his dick is smearing precome all over Jiwoo’s previously clean sheets. Wooin fucks in with such force that the bed cracks against the wall. The idea that Wooin is using his enhanced strength to fuck him is so ridiculous that Jisuk laughs out loud.

“Fuck,” he giggles into his own elbow. A hand cards through his hair then drops to cradle his cheek. Jiwoo’s, probably, and Jisuk nuzzles into it gratefully. His tongue darts out to lick the salty skin there, and he hears a sharp inhale above him. “You really are a monster,” he says, pulling away, and even Jisuk can’t tell who he’s talking to, Wooin or Jiwoo. Hell, maybe he means all three of them.

Jisuk is so past oversensitive that he’s scraped raw. As if sensing this, Wooin pulls out for a second and flips Jisuk over so they’re facing each other instead. The temporary absence of his cock inside Jisuk is shocking, and Jisuk gives a hard shudder when Wooin slides back in, moans dropping from his lips. It’s a perfect fit, like Jisuk’s body has already memorized the shape of Wooin and made room for him.

Jiwoo, still watching, leans down to kiss him. Jisuk’s lips already feel swollen from all the kisses that have been pressed up against them, but he doesn’t stop Jiwoo from nipping at them like he’s one of the cats that he loves so much. When he pulls away, Jisuk’s lips tingle.

“Can you come again?” Jiwoo asks, like Jisuk’s leaking dick isn’t answer enough. Then, without waiting for an answer, he’s trailing his fingers up and down Jisuk’s cock, fondling his balls and tracing upwards. The light touch is too much and not enough at the same time, and Jisuk makes an embarrassingly high pitched noise as he pushes his hips into Jiwoo’s hand, desperately chasing that touch. 

Then, without any indication, Jiwoo ducks his head and wraps his lips around the head of his cock, and Jisuk comes so hard that he sees stars. His second orgasm rushes over him like it’s been pulled from the deepest part of him, and distantly, Jisuk registers that Wooin’s rhythm stutters for the barest of seconds before resuming at a frantic, unmeasured pace.

 _This is it,_ Jisuk thinks dizzily to himself, wrapping his legs around Wooin’s waist to bring him in closer as Wooin comes with a low groan. Above him, Jiwoo strokes his hair and mutters about how proud he is, how much he loves them both so much. _This is what it feels like to have people care about you. This is what it feels like to be loved._

_This is what it means to love._

Jisuk wouldn’t have it any other way.

In the aftermath, they collapse into one another, limbs twining together above and below the sheets since they can’t be bothered to change them. Jiwoo goes to fetch a wet cloth from the bathroom and cleans them up, washing the stickiness from sweat and come alike off. Jisuk can’t move, can barely feel his own legs, and he closes his eyes at the soothing feeling of the warmth running over his body. He feels bruised from the inside out, sore in places that he didn’t know existed. His muscles ache. He basks in it.

“Jisuk.”

Jisuk cracks one eye open at that, fighting the tide of sleep threatening to overtake him. “Mm?”

Wooin hovers above him. His face is all angles in the shadows, and the set of his mouth is more relaxed than Jisuk has ever seen it. His hands linger in the air, like he doesn’t know where to put them.

“Was that good for you?” Wooin asks after a pause. Unlike his surety in the heat of the moment, he looks uncharacteristically uncertain now.

Jisuk takes a second to process this, then, done processing, snorts and turns his face into the pillow.

“Come here, you idiot,” he says, catching one of Wooin’s hands and pulling him down. “Of course it was good. Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“I didn’t know,” Wooin says, but he drapes himself over Jisuk anyway. The weight of his body should be stifling, but it’s comforting instead. “There are lots of things I’m only learning now.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Wooin seems to think about this while Jiwoo comes back from depositing the wipe in the bathroom, padding in on silent feet as he slips between Jisuk and Wooin. He snuggles into Wooin’s shoulder and sighs happily. Jisuk can’t resist pressing a kiss against the back of his shoulder.

“Your hair,” Wooin says at last. 

Jisuk is exhausted and half asleep as he leans against Jiwoo’s back, so he says, “Whu?” 

“I didn’t know you dyed your hair until I saw you naked,” Wooin admits. “Then I realized.”

 _That’s_ strange enough that Jisuk comes back to wakefulness.

“The fuck?” he says, sitting up. Jiwoo makes an unhappy noise as he’s jostled and cuddles closer to Wooin, pulling the sheets back up. “You—seriously?”

Wooin nods, too serious, and Jisuk can’t stop the disbelieving laugh that breaks free. 

“You saw me, a Korean teenager, with white hair and a black eyebrows, and you thought it was natural?” he asks incredulously. “Are you actually an idiot? I mean, I already knew, but...”

“I thought it was natural too,” Jiwoo chimes in sleepily from between them. His words are muffled since his face is mashed into Wooin’s chest, but he’s understandable enough. “Because it looks so good. It really suits you, Jisuk.”

“Well.” Jisuk begins and promptly loses his train of thought, flustered by the unexpected compliment. Damn Seo Jiwoo and his random kindness. Jisuk tries again. He jabs a finger at his head and says, “This is dyed, got it? Don’t ask why the school lets me get away with it, it’s called connections. Now let’s hurry up and go the fuck to sleep, we still have class tomorrow.”

“Got it,” Wooin acknowledges with a solemnity of making a binding vow. 

“We can’t miss school,” Jiwoo agrees, and when did Jisuk become the responsible one for fuck’s sake?

The night melts past like that, slow and syrupy. Despite the workout he got earlier, Jisuk can’t fall asleep. Wooin and Jiwoo are wrapped up in one another, Wooin snoring slightly and Jiwoo drooling onto him. When Jisuk looks, he can see the way that Wooin’s larger frame covers Jiwoo’s smaller one. 

Jisuk watches them a bit longer, and when he’s satisfied that they won’t wake up, he steals a sheet off the top of the bed, wraps it around himself, and heads out into the living room. 

The other cats are asleep, but Casein Nitrate, that fucking fat cat, is still awake. He sits on the windowsill overlooking the darkened streets and turns as soon as Jisuk enters the living room. His green eyes glow in the dark, and Jisuk could swear that they trail up and down his naked body judgmentally. He’s a cat, but Jisuk hitches the sheet around his hips self-consciously anyway.

After a brief moment of inspection, Casein Nitrate just snorts and looks back outside.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisuk grumbles, making sure to lower his voice. “I know I’m a mess right now, no need to tell me that.”

He’s normally scared to death of that stupid cat, but at night with the shadows draping the room like the softest and most velveteen sheets, even Casein Nitrate seems softer and kinder. 

Jisuk makes his way over to the window and looks out. Jiwoo’s house has a nice view down the rest of the street, and even this late, there are still city lights flickering in the distance. In the distance, he knows that his sister is probably still awake and dealing with whatever problems Shinhwa has dropped into her lap. The Union is out there too, and Baekdu. Friends and foes, both ready to switch sides at the slightest provocation. People he wants to protect, people he wants to defeat—they’re all out there. 

It’s a big world, and there are so many things Jisuk still has to do. He wants to get stronger, he wants to see Wooin and Jiwoo recognized by the other Awakened. 

He wants his sister to be proud of him.

“Do you think it’s okay?” Jisuk finally asks the fat cat who’s hopped up beside him, sitting up in that strangely human and upright way. “To be this happy?”

Casein Nitrate doesn’t say anything, leaving Jisuk to wonder if he really had hallucinated the cat warning him to keep his mouth shut all those weeks ago, but his tail comes up to rest lightly on Jisuk’s bare shoulder. Jisuk jumps a little at the feather light touch, but when the cat doesn’t move, he reaches up to stroke it with one finger. 

It’s soft. 

Jisuk chuckles and lets his hand fall. He’s still not sure if the cat actually talked or if that was his stress-filled imagination, but in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care. Right now, there’s an ache in Jisuk’s muscles that will soon go away and bruises on his hips that he hopes will stay. Deeper in the house, there are two people that Jisuk has trusted himself to and haven’t let him down yet. 

Here in the living room, Casein Nitrate flicks his ear and glances toward the bedroom. _You already know the answer_ , his too-human eyes say.

“Yeah,” Jisuk says, looking up at the sky. “I think so too.”

Then he turns and heads back to the bedroom where there’s an empty spot besides his lovers waiting for him. 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's that! I'm actually quite proud of how this one turned out, so I hope you enjoyed it as well. I don't talk about Eleceed on main, but if you'd like to hang out anyway, I'm on twitter as [shenfully](twitter.com/shenfully)!


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